Standing in Cold Rain, Alone
by Blue Paper Plane
Summary: She had done so much for them. For him. He was mystified. How was it even possible that she could die, the one who'd given life to so many others? . WARNING: CHARACTER PERIL/DEATH! R&R One-shot, Rated T just because


**Standing In Cold Rain, Alone**

_Fanfiction by Blue Paper Plane_

He is standing outside in the afternoon, forlorn, silent, confused. He wraps long arms around himself to provide some sort of insulation from the cold, heavy rain. His hair, an untidy light blond mass, is sticking wet to his forehead. His violet eyes sting, the puddles and pavement under his shoes are blurry and unclear.

Tamaki Suou remembers the time when he played "the lonely prince" for one of the Host Club's activities. It seems so long ago.

He has truly tried. He has tried so hard to prove himself to his grandmother, so heartless in the way she could destroy one's hopes and dreams so quickly without a second's worth hesitation. He couldn't be attempting proving himself forever on end, though, and the only place where he was someone other than just an heir, merely nothing but a troublesome boy to dump the family conflicts onto was school. School was his only escape, because that was where the Host Club was, the place his "family" could laugh and have fun and not have to worry about being someone they're not.

He always ignored that voice in his head, saying, "but they're not your true family. They're just a high school club, a meaningless memory, a childish game. They will eliminate you from their minds when they're done with your worthless club. They are nothing but a pretend imitation of what you think your family should really be."

He'd had to escape, had to collect his thoughts alone. He had stepped outside the gates of his family's estate and walked to the nearest little commoner's resturaunt he could find. He'd looked around the traditional American-style atmosphere and sat down at the bar. He hadn't even cared that he was there, he hadn't recalled the rumors of troublemakers that hung around this place. He had just needed to be alone. He needed to not be a Suou, just for a little while.

It had only been moments before when he'd been watching the news out of boredom on the resturaunt's telivison. Suddenly came the breaking news: a drunk driver had caused a major accident on the highway. Tamaki had looked up, curious. He'd gasped, shocked about those named as being part of the accident: Watanabe Ryota, Otori Kyouya, and Fujioka Haruhi. Kyouya was only suffering from a few broken bones. Watanabe would never walk again, but Tamaki could not find any room for pity for him in his heart, only contempt. He had not only caused the whole accident, but Haruhi was going to lose her life because of that bastard.

Haruhi Fujioka was suffering fatal wounds according to the news. No doctor could do anything for her. She was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do anything about it.

"What a pretty young girl. What a shame that sweet smile will now be put to waste," the man at the next to him had mused when they'd showed Hauhi's picture on the telivison screen. Tamaki had been completely horrified at the news. He'd slumped back in his seat, wanting to scream. "Haruhi . . . Non, il ne peut être . . ." he muttered in French.

"You knew her? She your girlfriend or somethin' kid?" the guy had asked.

"Merde!" Tamaki cursed, once again in French. His pale fist had come hard down on the table, and a sharp pain shot through it. Tamaki didn't even notice.

He cared not about the many strange looks he was getting from the people around him. Tamaki ran away, fast, fast, away from the bitter news he didn't want to face.

Now he was here, standing here useless in the rain.

He pulls his ringing cell phone out of his pocket. _Kyouya, he thinks. I'm going to the hospital as soon as I can. Do you think I'll really be able to stand this, though? Will I really be able to watch Haruhi on her deathbed? _

Haruhi didn't belong on a deathbed. He couldn't even imagine that. No, Haruhi belonged to him, in his arms.

He wasn't sure if he was strong enough at all.

Tamaki arrived at the door to Haruhi's hospital room, panting. Everyone was there: Mori, strangely stiff, Honey, looking saddened and quiet and clutching Usa-chan close to his chest, Hikaru, for once looking defeated and unhappy and Kaoru with his face in his hands. And then there was Kyouya, of course, the emotion of his eyes hidden by the gleam reflecting the light off his glasses. His arm was in a sling, and he was seated on a chair with noticible wounds on his face and arms. But other than that he seemed all right.

No one said a word when Tamaki arrived. They didn't seem to realize he was even there.

Tamaki sighed, and leaned against the bland white wall next to Haruhi's door, unmoving. Finally, he said, "Kyouya. Are you well?"

"Hardly scathed," Kyouya said in a low voice that seemed unlike himself. "Haruhi, on the other hand, you-"

"Tama-chan?" Aren't you going to go in?" Honey interrupted.

Three seconds passed. Tamaki slowly shook his head no.

He glanced at the twins breifly, and saw that Hikaru was glowering at him.

"Hikaru?" he murmured.

Hikaru got up and struck Tamaki hard, in his shoulder, causing him to stagger back and stare at Hikaru in confusion and astonishment.

"Baka!!" Hikaru yelled, his fists tightening in the utter fury he was expiriencing. "We were waiting, Suou! Waiting for you to go in there and be the first one to see Haruhi!! We knew she'd want to see you first! And now you don't even want to see her? What were we waiting for, then? All this time we could've spent with Haruhi! Wasted!!" With each shout he drew closer and closer to Tamaki, in a state of great anger. "And you-"

"Hikaru! Calm down!" Kaoru insisted, grabbing Hikaru's arms. "Please, brother. Senpai's just not ready-"

"Shut up, Kaoru! Because of him, Haruhi was alone all this time, this time in which we could've-"

He looked at the horrified Kaoru once more and stopped midsentence. Tears ran down Hikaru's cheek as he turned away and took off down the hall.

"Hikaru!! WAIT!!" Kaoru went on after him.

Tamaki bit his lip. He and Hikaru. They were both running, running away from Haruhi's terrible fate because they couldn't take it. They didn't want it to be true.

Running away wouldn't help. Where would you go?

Stricken with this realization, Tamaki drew in a quivering breath and turned the doorknob to Haruhi's room.

"Oi . . . Haruhi?" Tamaki pushed open the door and instantly paled.

Haruhi was lying in a small bed in a small room, looking quite weak and very unlike herself. Scratches covered her skin and large splatters of blood leaked through her clothes. She was breathing raspy, harsh breaths, like she could easily give up but was determined not to. Tamaki noticed that her brown, penetrating eyes had lost a little of their liveliness. But when she saw Tamaki at her bedside, those eyes brightened, just a little.

Tamaki wore a forced, half-smile. _Say hi to Daddy, Haruhi,_ he thought. _Just say hello. _

"Hi . . . Senpai," Haruhi whispered. Tamaki saw that she was struggling to speak and reversed his wishes. "Don't speak," he said. "Just lie down and rest."

"No, senpai. I don't want to sit still like this; I'm going to die anyway. I want to talk to you. Tamaki, please, I want to say-"

"Don't talk that way!!" Tamaki snapped. "Nothing's been decided yet, just because it doesn't look good doesn't mean a thing. You can't give up like this!" His trembling hand took Haruhi's, and he clutched it. "You can never give up!"

"Tamaki . . ." Haruhi said, looking up at her senpai with wistful eyes. "This-"

"Giving up doesn't suit you, Haruhi. Remember when you broke that vase? You worked with us to pay it back and did it! You didn't give up! And when I was going with Eclair to France? You didn't give up then either, you went after me and showed me the truth! Haruhi . . ." he cried, trying to see through her unreadable eyes," You can't give up now! Not even when there's the smallest of hopes left, you must persevere! You can't give up. You can never-"

"Senpai. Don't yell," Haruhi said quietly.

"Fathers can scold their daughters," Tamaki pointed out.

"You're not my father.

Tamaki couldn't help but to feel the pang by those words. He knew he wasn't her father. Haruhi had never considered him a father. He was nothing but a mere school friend to her, and it should've been like that for him, too.

"Sorry, Haruhi. I'll go get the others, and your dad will be here soon." With that false smile still pasted onto his face, he backed away."

"Tamaki, you aren't my dad."

_You said that already. _

"I will never love you as a father or a brother or anything like that."

_Don't hurt me anymore, Haruhi. Please. _

"And that's because-"

Haruhi's eyes widened and trailed off. "Tamaki . . . You're . . ."

Something within him had shattered (perhaps it was his heart) and he hadn't been able to hold back his tears any longer. They streamed down his flawless ivory cheeks, unhidden, visible.

"Bye, Haruhi."

"Senpai . . . Tamaki . . . Wait!!" she cried.

He fled, leaving Haruhi all alone. A tear of her own traced down her cheek as she whispered the words she had learned, the words she had wanted to say to her senpai.

"Je t'aime."

Tamaki paused outside the door, and sank to his knees, watching his own tears splatter onto the floor.

_Je t'aime, Haruhi_, he thought.

_I love you. _

**A/N: Arrgh!! I don't even know why I wrote this angst thingy!! My favorite thing about OHSHC is its humor and non-angstiness! Oh well. Sorry if Tamaki and everyone else were way OOC. Reviews, please. I'm always begging for reviews. If you give me lots of reviews, I'll put in another chapter!! So please . . . REVIEW!!!**

Notes/Translations:

Non, il ne peut être - No, it's impossible.

Merde – damn, damnit

Je t'aime - I love you.


End file.
